Post by xanthe morrigan ravencrest on Aug 8, 2016 17:40:35 GMT -5
XANTHE MORRIGAN RAVENCREST
FULL NAME: Xanthe Morrigan Ravencrest.
NICKNAMES: Mor, Morrigan, Rigs – she never uses her first name in NYC. She loathes it.
AGE: Twenty-three.
GENDER: Female
SEXUALITY: Straight.
STATUS: Single.
GROUP: Student.
GRADE: Junior.
MAJOR: Journalism & French.
JOB OCCUPATION: Planet Hollywood Waitress
HAIR: Blonde and kept pixie length most of the time. She says most of the time because if she’s going home or her parents are in town she clips in extensions so she can style the lengths and look more feminine for them. They’re not a fan of her short hair.
EYES: Blue.
SCARS/BIRTHMARKS: None worth mentioning.
TATTOOS: None.
PIERCINGS: Both ears once.
PLAY-BY: Elizabeth Debicki!
LIKES: Sports in general, baseball, football, hockey, beanies, sleeping in, messy food, bath bombs, fire pits, ramen noodles, action movies, concerts, city life, writing, the sports pages, not doing chores, chocolate milk, nights out, mint green, her steaks cooked rare, cherry lipbalm, hand cream, lazy days, candy (of any kind), men’s cologne, being away from home, freedom, loud places.
DISLIKES: Her parents visiting, hangovers, wearing her hair extensions, gowns, flat pillows, bad books, strawberry milk, tequila (bad things happen with tequila), snobs, social sheep, cold nights, being on hold, crumbs in her bed, all talk and no action, strangers calling her babe, fake tan, dusting, spiders, dark chocolate, the effort of removing her makeup, dry skin, floral prints, power cuts.
FEARS: Spiders, friends leaving if they find out her secret, not having a chance to follow her dreams.
SECRETS: Mor isn’t as poor as she makes out. Her family is ludicrously rich, and only let her come to New York because she told them she was studying at business school and expanding on the social network already in place stateside. She’s fed them lie after lie to keep them off her back and away from the city, purely so she can have her own freedom and her own chance at living her dreams.
PERSONALITY: Morrigan is loud and a tomboy. She’s sport loving to the core, even if she doesn’t play much herself beyond hockey. Something of a slob it can take all the pushing and nagging in the world to make her clean up after herself, and Rigs isn’t afraid to get messy. She’s surprisingly tough, and a terrible troublemaker who won’t pass up on a dare even if the little voice in the back of her mind is telling her better. She’s smart, but often hides the extent of her education and her knowledge. Mor walks on the wild side, loving to let her hair down and embrace the freedom that New York City grants to her. She’s a foodie who can put away more food than appears healthy, but with all the running around she does simply living life you wouldn’t think she honestly pigs out like she does. Independent and stubborn, Xanthe handles most things on her own and will only ask for help when she is beyond the point of desperate. She’s friendly, but some people are put off by her abrupt nature and blunt, dry attitude. With Rigs there is no such thing as subtly, and she’s got absolutely no time for people who are going to shy away from what they want. Hell, she’ll speak up for them, even if they rather she didn’t. There is a side to her that is reserved for her parents, but that’s a front and not the true her; the little lady with the nice manners, the polite smile, and the grateful attitude. It’s not who she wants to be, but Morrigan plays the part well when she has to. She isn’t prone to losing her temper or being violent, but she can handle her own in a fight if it comes down to it. She can be scrappy when she wants to be, and fights dirty if it comes to it. Her mother would love to see a white wedding and Prince Charming in Morrigan’s future, but Mor is hopeless. She’ll spill her drink on the guy she likes when she tries to flirt with him, or outright ask him back to her place before saying hi. She’s a clumsy flirt and a lost cause when it comes to the traditional approach. Perpetually late for everything, dates rarely happen smoothly, and Rigs often catches herself in the web of lies that is her New York life to keep anyone as more than a friend. Telling them about her life and where she comes from is a risk she’s just not been willing to take with anyone yet.
MOTHER: Elizabeth Amelia Ravencrest, 58.
FATHER: Frederick Nicolai Ravencrest, 61.
SIBLINGS: Phaedra Rosalie Halewood, 26.
OTHERS: Markus Lionel Halewood, 29, brother-in-law.
PETS: None!
HOMETOWN: Chiltern, Bucks, England.
HISTORY: Elizabeth and Frederick both grew up in a world of wealth and power. Old money, and family lines that could mean everything. There were heroes in their blood, and high expectations of the future. They married a few years after their first meeting at a polo game. They were both from families who frequented such events, mingling with the rich and the elite in the hopes of furthering themselves with the right players and friendships. They had two daughters; Phaedra and Xanthe. Both were expected to play the game just like their parents. They were taught the importance of it from a young age, how they should behave and what they ought to do. Unfortunately, Xanthe had already seen a glimpse of life away from that world, and she liked the pull of it very much indeed.
When she had been six, Xanthe had been forced to stay at the family home one day while her sister and parents went to a formal gala. She was recovering from chicken pox, out of the contagious stage, but all the same they chose not to take her with them for her own sake and the sake of appearances. That day, Xanthe wound up playing with the son of the cook. He was a little older than she was, and rougher, but Xanthe liked the boisterous manner of the lad who kept getting scolded every five minutes by his mother. He wouldn’t normally have been at the house, but with school out for the summer she had struggled to find a sitter that particular day. Xanthe’s parents were not cruel people, and they had allowed her to bring him up to the estate, on the condition that he stay where the cook could see him, and not step foot into the rest of the house. Xanthe never saw him again after that afternoon, simply because their paths never crossed again and that cook left the family two years later to move to London. That day changed her though.
Xanthe wanted the rough and tumble in her life. She knew she had to wear dresses and act nicely, but she was more interested in the sporting events her parents took her to, wishing she could be closer, be a part of them. She knew they were only there to socialise, but she wanted to scream with the crowds, holler and cheer with the most passionate of the fans. It was not becoming though, so she couldn’t. Xanthe confided in her sister, Phaedra, and from time to time Phaedra would create a diversion so Xanthe could slip away and get closer to the horses at the races or the polo, or go and talk with the people she wasn’t supposed to. Phaedra liked playing the games of the elite. She enjoyed manipulating the strings and having the attention on herself. Xanthe didn’t. So it worked quite well for the sisters to have their little arrangement from time to time. Xanthe got to have her escape from the horror show of the fancy events that – frankly – bored her to tears and gave her headaches, and Phaedra got to soak up the attention that otherwise might have been her sister’s.
Both of the girls were privately educated. A lot of money, a fancy school, and plenty of hours put in to have the best education. Xanthe made excellent grades, as did her sister. Xanthe also managed to snag a spot on the hockey and netball teams, too. She would have gone out for more, but her parents insisted she do more than just play sport. They forced the flute upon her – which she could play, but hated – and made sure she had extra languages under her belt, too, because apparently that was impressive. All Xanthe wanted was to run around, get dirty and play. She might have enjoyed a book at bedtime, but she wasn’t a true academic. She made good grades because it kept her parents from nagging her when she wanted to go out. Not that there was often a chance for that since they were always so busy with events, functions and places where they had to make an appearance. Throughout her life Xanthe was forever scrambling for an idea, a chance to be the person she wanted to be. In the circles the Ravencrests moved in there would never be that shot. She would always have to put on the front that was expected of her and be just like Phaedra.
After she was done with school, Xanthe was expected to make more of an effort at social events. Phaedra was already excelling at them. She had met and begun flirting with Markus Halewood, without tying herself to him. It was a wonderful piece of drama for their type of people, but Xanthe didn’t want that. She didn’t want a husband by twenty-five, kids by twenty-six. Plus, she was taller than most of the men she was introduced to. Her parents were tall, and Phaedra came in at 5ft10, but Xanthe towered over all of them rather awkwardly, even without heels. Phaedra still did her best to help her sister, but both of them knew it wasn’t a lasting arrangement. Phaedra wanted to be with Markus and once that was official their parents would swoop on Xanthe and focus their attentions on getting their youngest daughter settled before questions about her became the constant norm at every function they attended. Xanthe didn’t think she could handle that, so after talking to one of the businessmen she was introduced to at the races, she came up with a very quick plan in her bed.
She told her parents that she had been very interested in the gentleman, but his world had baffled her completely. She didn’t want to be arm candy just nodding and smiling her whole life, so perhaps they might entertain the idea of her attending business school. That way she could understand a future husband’s dealings enough to entertain him and his colleagues, and – if she went overseas to say, America – she could extend the Ravencrest reach. Phaedra called her a cunning fool the moment they were alone again, knowing full well that Xanthe had been bored to tears by the man who had chewed her ear off for most of the evening. Still, it worked. Her parents were convinced, and oddly proud of their daughter, but Xanthe had other plans. She wasn’t about to sit through business classes for four years. No, she enrolled at NYU and signed up to major in journalism and reluctantly put her name down for French because she knew her mother would insist or test her on the languages she was already forgetting. If Xanthe had her wish she would eventually be a sports journalist, but she only had four years to figure out a plan, while spinning an intricate web of lies to continuously feed to her parents back home.
In New York, she ditched her first name. She had hated it her whole life and instead stuck to her middle name and monikers from it. She shrugged off her wealthy past and rented a small apartment in a modest area of the city, saving a swanky penthouse for when her parents did decide to visit, or when Phaedra and Markus flew in. Mostly, she played up the poor student gig, despite having more than enough money to her name. She got a job, and began living the life she had dreamt of living for years. Her friends never knew she was as smart as she was, or that she came from a very elite English family. She occasionally had to brunch with someone but Xanthe smuggled that in and sneaked around when that was a thing. Mostly, she was herself, slobbing about and enjoying the sports she had never been able to before. She played hockey in college, and grinned whenever she earned a bruise or a cut. She cut off her hair and basically got to be her true self for the first time ever.
A junior now, Xanthe’s lies are becoming tiring. Her time is running out to think up a long term plan. If she graduates without one, it’s back to England and a life that will kill her. Her parents currently think she’s living a nice, proper ladylike life, when in fact she wakes up in a mess, perpetually late, and usually with a dozen missed calls from friends. It’s becoming a dangerous combination of two worlds, and they’re both getting scarily close to colliding, and landing Xanthe in a whole realm of chaos she could never have expected.
YOUR ALIAS: Kim.
RULE WORDS: kidnappedbykim.
WHERE YOU FOUND US: In the Deep Roads.
SAMPLE:No!
